


Arousal

by electraDandelion



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strip Tease, light edging, sexual baths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electraDandelion/pseuds/electraDandelion
Summary: “Jaskier, you can’t give me a bath smelling like that.”The bard stiffened, confused. He shifted to look at Geralt from where he was kneeling behind him, beginning to comb through his hair.“You’re the one who smells like a downer, what could I possibly smell like that—““Arousal.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 182





	Arousal

“Jaskier, you can’t give me a bath smelling like that.”

The bard stiffened, confused. He shifted to look at Geralt from where he was kneeling behind him, beginning to comb through his hair.

“You’re the one who smells like a downer, what could I possibly smell like that—“

“ _Arousal_.”

Jaskier immediately dropped his hands away from the witcher, and knew by the warm mix of shame, embarrassment and yes — arousal, that he could not hide the bright red flush that was sure to be covering his skin.

“I —“

The bard was not normally at a loss for words, but what was one to even _say_ in such a predicament?

“I’ll just...” Jaskier fumbled as he raised from his position by the tub, and scurried back towards the door.

“Who said you could leave...?”

Geralt’s gruff voice rumbled straight into Jaskier’s chest like thunder, and all he could do was stop and stare back at the bare back leaning against the rim of the tub.

The witcher hadn’t so much as moved an inch from when he had submerged in the bath. Even so, Jaskier could practically feel those amber eyes boring holes straight through him.

“I mean you just said that I couldn’t give you a bath, so I —“

“Take care of it.” Geralt said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“ _What_?!” In any other situation, Jaskier would have been embarrassed by the shrill crack in his voice, but he had already been caught like a teenager with a dirty portrait he stole from a brothel. 

At a glacial pace, as if to intentionally torture the pent up bard, Geralt finally turned around. He used his very well defined arms to prop himself up against the rim of the tub.

The combined efforts of the lamp light, his sopping wet skin and the blazing fire of Geralt’s eyes — which were practically undressing Jaskier where he stood — made the bard swallow. _Hard_.

Geralt took one long, pointed glance down to the swollen front of Jaskier’s trousers, only to languidly trace up every inch of his lithe body before resuming eye contact.

“I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything, Jaskier. So why start now?”

Aside from the mind blowing reality of Geralt saying more than 5 words at a time, Jaskier couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sound of his own name on Geralt’s tongue. It was literally impossinle to not be aroused when the witcher looked at him like _that_. It just wasn’t fair.

“I’m not afraid... I’m just confused.” On shaking legs, Jaskier forced himself a few steps forward. “What are you saying, Geralt...” Step by step, refusing to remove his eyes from Geralt’s candlelit form; afraid he would break whatever magic _this_ was.

“Watch me.” Geralt commanded, barely lifting a hand from the tub in a stopping motion.

Jaskier obeyed without question.

“But...” The witcher started, lowering his raised hand below the surface of the water. “Only if I get to watch you.”

Jaskier swallowed down as much of the flush as he could, but could feel that previous shame morphing quickly into pleasure at being offered the thing he had wanted for so long, but had deprived himself of for years. Without a second thought, he brought his own hands down to unlace his too-tight trousers, and quickly wrapped a hand firmly around his cock.

The breathy sigh of pleasure that left his mouth could only be described as lewd.

But that didn’t seem to be a problem one bit, as a low reverberating ‘ _hmmm_ ’ of pleasure echoed through their shared space.

As Jaskier slowly made his way over to an arm chair that was situated perpendicularly to the metal tub in the center of the room, he couldn’t dare let his gaze drift below the water.

Lucky for him, the sight of Geralt’s naked body, his broad shoulders, his chest littered with scars... every single part of the witcher’s body was just begging Jaskier to write endless sonnets.

But what really got him was the undivided attention that ignited a fire deep in his belly. Geralt had _never_ looked at Jaskier quite like that before: like an assassin just waiting for the perfect moment to strike his target.

Finally, Jaskier found his seat in front of his witcher. Tension and the agonizingly slow glide of his hand against his cock had made a generous amount of precome begin to leak.

Jaskier sat as if putting himself on display for the witcher, giving Geralt a front-row view of the show. Legs spread wide and vulnerable, Jaskier was ready to prove that he was anything but scared — and willing to show Geralt the performance of a lifetime if it meant there would be an encore.

Now seated in full view of the witcher, Jaskier finally allowed himself to look. The walk over had given him a little space to prepare himself for the sight of Geralt touching himself. _For him._ He was still afraid that he would come just at the sight, but even if he did, at least now he could provide Geralt the entertainment he had been craving.

Letting himself fully pump the base of his own shaft, Jaskier couldn’t even dream of holding back his moans.Not when Geralt of Rivia was _staring_ at himwith hooded eyes, clouded with smoldering desire.

Leaning all the way back against the edge of the tub, Geralt slowly stroked his own hard cock. The size of which was still veiled beneath the surface of the water, but with every pass Jaskier could tell it was massive just from the hint of the head just breaking the surface.

He couldn’t help the sounds of pleasure that fled from his lips. Caught between the sight of Geralt’s naked, inviting body... the thought of Geralt’s large, rough hand wrapped around his cock... and the desire to be pressed flush against the witcher’s chest as Jaskier ground the cleft of his ass into that magnificent cock. He was already dreaming of being filled to the brim with —

“ _Jaskier_.”

He was brought out of his fantasy by the gravelly voice of his dreams.

“Jaskier, you have helped me bathe countless times over the years.” Geralt started, a small smirk beginning to grow on the corner of his lips. “Yet I could probably count the number of times I’ve seen you naked on one hand.”

The bard didn’t dare speak, barely able to gulp down the air that was threatening to explode his pounding heart.

“So it just doesn’t seem fair that I should be naked in front of you... while you are still wearing all of those clothes.”

With a quick glance down, Jaskier knew Geralt was right. He was still wearing a loose, white chemise and his trousers. _Far_ too much clothing in his opinion.

Even though both were already undone to the point of barely covering anything anymore, the thought of Geralt ogling his naked body quickly put him into motion.

Jaskier released the grip on his cock with a small whine, but he was honestly glad for the reprieve because he was already edging far too close to release.

He made quick work of his shirt, not being able to lift the fabric over his head anywhere near fast enough. Not caring for the sorry heap of silk that formed a crumpled pile behind his chair.

Looking up, however, Jaskier reveled in the hunger that was emanating from the witcher in front of him. He could almost hear the restrained growl forming in his chest from impatience. It was that look — that _fire —_ the things it did to fuel the heat in his own belly... that gave Jaskier the idea to slow things down.

Jaskier didn’t dare break eye contact with the glowing pools of gold that ignited his deepest desires. Instead, he slowly rose from his seat to tower over the witcher.With the grace of a lioness circling her prey, Jaskier stalked forward inch by inch. Indulging himself in the slow torture he could inflict on the witcher.

But with every pump of his length and the rumbling groan that made Jaskier grow harder each second, he knew Geralt was enjoying the show.

Jaskier hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers, perfectly framing his painfully hard and dripping cock that he had already released from its restraints earlier.

He had to bite back a groan as he saw Geralt dig his teeth into his chapped lips. A deep moan stuttered past those teeth and sounded dangerously like the bard’s name. If Jaskier was a lesser man he would have cum on the spot — untouched.

Instead, in one fluid movement, he turned around and shifted the thumbs at his waistband back towards his arse. Inching the fabric down, he slowly and deliberately bent forward to present his full and bare arse to Geralt. 

Jaskier had half a mind to beg Geralt take him right then and there. He had wanted the witcher for so damn _long..._ but his mind was set alight by the prospect of being pounded into tomorrow by a feral witcher, edged past no return by Jaskier’s teasing and antics.

When Jaskier finally stepped out of histrousers, a gasping intake of breath immediately cleared his mind. The bard had never thought he could ever be responsible for a noise like that coming from Geralt. 

It took all of his strength to not sneak a peak at Geralt coming undone in the bath behind him.

He set aside his trousers on the floor next to his shirt, and stayed bent forward in a position that could only be described as _face down, arse up._

At a tantalizingly slow pace, Jaskier trailed his fingers up every inch of his legs. From his ankles to his incredibly toned calves up to his muscled thighs, Jaskier knew his legs were one of his best assets. Which he only had Geralt to thank for, after years of walking at his side. Even if Geralt had never noticed them before, Jaskier could tell that he might never walk another day in his life without those blazing cat eyes following their every move.

Finally, Jaskier reached around to fully cup his own ass and grip it as he desperately prayed to Melitele that soon Geralt’s hands would replace his. With a sultry pop, Jaskier arched his back as he spread his cheeks to present the witcher with everything he wanted him to take. 

After a few moments of hearing the light splashing and heavy breathing from behind him, Jaskier chanced a glance over his shoulder. But he was not prepared for the sight before him.

Geralt’s head dipped far back beyond the rim of the tub, hung back in ecstasy with his jaw hanging limply open. His back was arched enough that his magnificent cock was on full display, being absolutely ravished by the unrelenting pace of his own hand pumping and wrist twisting around the head.

Now, taking in the whole view of his witcher, Jaskier could see that the source of the splashing sound was not Geralt jerking himself off; it was Geralt thrusting his hips _desperately_ into his own hand.

Jaskier couldn’t help himself as a loud, frenzied moan wormed its way out of him. All he could do at the sight was scramble to wrap a hand back around his own length, causing another series of whimpers to fall from his lips.

Seeing Geralt cant his hips up frantically at the sight of Jaskier naked and touching himself was... _intoxicating_. Just knowing he had that effect on Geralt — a man who claimed he had no emotions, felt nothing and needed no one — worked up Jaskier beyond belief.

He briefly let a finger trace down the cleft of his arse; still holding one cheek, presenting himself wide open for Geralt. Wishing for the witcher — his fingers, his tongue, his cock, his _anything_ —to ravage him like he had always dreamt of.

The smallest of “ _Geralt_...”s slipped past Jaskier’s lips at the teasing drag of his finger over his entrance. He had half a mind to use the generous flow of precome to slick up his finger and open himself up for Geralt. But a sinful, guttural groan stopped that thought as he refocused his gaze upon the wrecked witcher — just in time to see a powerful spurt of white cover his chest.

Jaskier’s jaw fell open as his cock twitched in a threat to do the exact same.

“O-oh sweet Melitele, Geralt...” Jaskier moaned, unable to find any more words due to the blinding lust practically swallowing him whole.

He wildly struggled to find a rhythm to his own stroking, the tempo speeding up past all rational thoughts. All he knew was he _needed_ the sweet release of orgasm — and that he had been able to provide just that for Geralt without so much as touching him.

Just as he could feel the blistering edge begin to peak, Jaskier heard his name practically _purred_ out.

He looked up to the source, and gulped as he saw Geralt standing up from the bath, dripping wet and still rock hard not even a few minutes after release.

“Jaskier.... I’m not done with you yet” 

Geralt sauntered over to where Jaskier stood, half bent over, and placed one hand on the small of Jaskier’s back. The other, wrapped around Jaskier’s cock.

The bard practically yelped out the moan as he felt Geralt press his warm body square against his own. He could feel the witcher’s hard arousal flush with his backside, and all Jaskier wanted to do was cry out and grind back into it. However it seemed Geralt had other ideas.

The hand that was wrapped around his member held tight and firm, not allowing any thrusting or form of friction. 

Geralt snaked his other hand up and around Jaskier’s naked body. His firm touch was a tantalizing reminder at how Jaskier was practically putty in the witcher’s arms. If Geralt were to give the command, he would do practically _anything_ for the man.

He slowly raked his hands over Jaskier’s hips, to tease at his happy trail leading up from his cock to his toned stomach... Even slower still, the hands traveled up to give a hard pinch on one of his nipples eliciting another embarrassing squeal from the bard.

Jaskier could feel Geralt’s satisfactory “ _hmmm_ ” vibrate through every point of contact and it made the warmth build even more in his stomach.

Suddenly, the hand that was so diligently exploring every inch of Jaskier pressed it’s palm flat into the bard’s sternum, and pulled his whole body harshly back to line up fully with the witcher. Jaskier gasped, but it quickly turned into an unbridled moan as sharp teeth caught his right earlobe. His ears had always been sensitive — an attentive listener, professional troubadour and at times a needy bottom with a biting fetish. 

That same grumble that had been doing shameful things to his body all day was now resounding deep in his ear as Geralt whisper-groaned from his dominant position behind him.

“I won’t be satisfied with just one, bard. Will you?”

Geralt punctuated his teasing with one full pump of his wrist, twisting achingly at the head of Jaskier’s cock which left him breathless.

“No —“ 

“ **Good**.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> This was my first piece of smut I've ever written, but with how thirsty I am for this series I can only imagine it will not be the last. 
> 
> This fic was born on Twitter, so follow me [@ElectraInTheAir](https://twitter.com/ElectraInTheAir)
> 
> I have no clue when chapter 2 will get written, but there will definitely be more fun times for this duo in the future, so let me know what you think! (And what you would like to see happen. I'm really amenable to anything with these two)


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